Review Summary: predictably great without full conviction
In Waves opens with characteristically lush washing back and forth, building and inhaling until it backspins into a party-ready dance track with suspenseful drums, optimistic refrains, and bittersweet melodic leads. These first two tracks summarize the next ten - it's classic Jamie XX, but several steps farther in the direction of sharing his melancholic bliss with the public, best suited for speakers, rather than
In Colour's headphone-engineered personal bubble. It's a natural move, and a smart one - "I Know There's Gonna Be (Good Times)" proved his capability, and it makes more sense to focus on actual loud places instead of trying to out-meditate the "Loud Places" he already perfected. Predictably, his detailed, luminous production style proves to be a great fit for this evolution. Even at its worst, this album is just a collection of prettier, more intricate versions of any given presentable festival house anthems, and at its best, it's energizing, cleansing, and ecstatic. It almost certainly won't have the same crossover appeal or cultural impact of its predecessor (especially since it's a sky-blue dance album that released in the middle of September), but it's serviceable for his standard, which is much more rigorous than a typical producer's. It's easy to mourn the loss of artistic focus here - and there's plenty of that loss to mourn - but it's not because he's creating fun, mainstream, accessible dance songs compared to his transparently gloomier past. Without context,
In Waves is a clear triumph, a blast of an album with a consistent aesthetic and enough vivid ear candy to feed an army of overenthusiastic trick or treaters.
It’s too bad for those who are very aware of his past work, having to think about this in context rather than as something special on its own - most of all for Jamie himself. A Vulture interview makes it clear that for much of the past nine years, he has experienced creative burnout and exhaustion with the endlessness that is the inherent human pursuit of personal growth. To some degree, the article reads - and the album sounds - like he sort of gave up on the musical side of this towards the end, specifically covering his newly frequent use of somewhat generically uplifting vocal samples and spoken word elements. He explains that these kinds of manifestations are meant to be both "fun and poking fun," which one critic has already understandably referred to as "post-ironic dodging." It wouldn't really matter if he was being evasive about his intentions in his music (no artist has any ethical need to be transparent about what their art means to them), but it does really come across in the music as vaguely insincere. Not overtly so, just enough of a taste of "are you making fun of us for feeling this right now?" (particularly on tracks like "Life" and "Treat Each Other Right," each of which are carried by mantras that feel equal parts inspirational and flippant) that it's hard to completely put aside. It feels amplified given the history of mantras voiced by so many forgotten pioneers of house, garage, and EDM at large that his entire solo career so blatantly worships. This is frustrating since his own conclusion to the post-2020-protests discussions regarding Black voices being profited off of by white artists is to do the bare minimum of listing credits and giving royalties, then shruggingly pointing to the way these dynamics led to the success of rock and roll, as if the blatantly racist theft of that genre wasn't one of the greatest artistic injustices of the twentieth century. That's not to say that his dismissive attitude regarding his privilege ruins these songs, or even that it's at all unusual for the scene, just that it is frustratingly emblematic of
In Waves's overall slightly on-the-fence vibe. This music is supportive, positive, embracing joy and community, but has just a touch of tongue in its cheek, which leads to what sometimes seems to be a frustrating lack of open, honest, heart-on-sleeve vulnerability.
That being said, again, this is still a lot of fun, and often a fulfilling listening experience. Maybe it at times feels like the slight involuntary smirk you can hear in your tripsitter's voice as they affirm you explaining your latest (probably meaningless) drug-fueled revelation, but it also feels like the efforts that same friend made to create a positive environment for you to help you work through that latest trauma. The good intentions here stand out, like in obvious highlight "Baddy On The Floor," an infectious ode to exuberance and the power of a drop, showcasing the way a shot of energy, provided by the ever-exciting and deservedly renowned Honey Dijon, can really push Jamie's music from great music for exploring forgotten aspects of oneself to fantastic music for experiencing the best parts of life. On the other end of things is the already-beloved non-single "Breather," a slower burn of a track that uses mindfulness spoken word instructions as the theme to sew an elaborate path of serene momentum, tying together past and present sounds in a satisfying knot. The best moment of all, though, is reserved for "Every Single Weekend," a short interlude and the penultimate track. It features a beautiful combination of harp strings and a largely unedited segment of the child choir sample (reminiscent of the main hook of the previous song "All You Children," the second released Avalanches and Jamie collab), building up into something marvelous enough that it could easily inspire the next album. It's such a hopeful piece of the puzzle, painting a picture of contentment and elation that
In Waves really could have looked for a little more. In the same interview where he mentions an expanded version of this song potentially in the works for release, he discusses how the album is more about “dreaming about feeling [good] rather than actually feeling [good],” which is spot on. “Every Single Weekend” comes in as a glimmering piece of that good feeling, before fading into the rest of the album’s pleasant beats that do their best to imagine a better tomorrow. This is
In Waves’s fatal flaw and greatest strength. It’s music that can’t help but hold on just a little too tight to ennui and cynicism, expressing the future as a respite from the now in place of extending a flexible present.
